Chapter 13 #3
I crossed my arms. “I know you’re sleeping with Giselle, and you’re probably heading to see her right now. And I’m telling you I don’t care.”
“I’m not,” he clarified, his gaze pointed, “but I’d love to know why you think that.”
I rolled my eyes. “It doesn’t matter. I just don’t understand why you even bothered to bring me out. Are you trying to humiliate me?”
His jaw tightened. “It does matter.”
“I’m not mad if you’re having an affair,” I cut back. “I’m mad that you’re lying about it."
“I don’t lie.” He meant that but that didn’t mean it was the truth.
I had started out this conversation mad, but now it just depressed me. Worse, anyone comparing Giselle to me, wouldn’t even blame Axel for stepping out on his celibate marriage. She was stunning to say the least.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said again, trying to hide emotions I didn’t understand.
Understanding dawned across his face. Then his voice went soft.
Dangerously soft.
“I’m not fucking anyone, but if I was, I’d start by fucking my little wife.”
Suddenly the whole game changed. There was a look in his eyes, and in that moment two truths collided. He wasn’t sleeping with her. And he wanted to sleep with me.
The butterflies in my stomach made me spin around, giving him my back in a dramatic display of walking away.
He didn’t let me get far.
A strong arm wrapped around my waist, tugging me against his hard body, and a shiver of lust washed over me.
“Where are you going?”
My protest sounded false to my own ears. Probably because it was. “I’m leaving.”
His other hand trailed slow, torturous fingertips up the side of my neck, before his mouth pressed against my ear.
“Not without my permission.”
His words made me jerk against his hold on me. “I don’t obey you.”
His breath was hot against my neck. “I warned you what would happen if you got mouthy with me.”
I gave a soft cry when his teeth lightly grazed the sensitive skin of my neck. His left hand, tight around my waist, moved to hug the curve of my hip.
“I’m not some doll that you can dress up and parade around,” I gasped, wondering why I was pressing my back against his body instead of pulling away from him.
His breath was hot against my ear. “You sure about that?”
When his right hand slowly trailed from my neck to my collarbone, my chest heaved with excitement and adrenaline. I twisted in his grip when I felt his fingertips skimmed the top of my dress, which only resulted in him tightening his grip on me and pulling me back hard against his body.
I arched when his fingers teased my hard nipple through the tight fabric of the dress, lightly pinching it while his hot mouth trailed against my neck, sending wild shivers down my spine.
He slid his hand down my hip and then, without warning, grabbed the hem of my dress and pulled it up hard.
It took a second to remember that I wasn’t wearing underwear, and a second later, the fabric stretched taut.
With a resounding snap, it bunched around my waist, leaving me completely naked below.
The fight to get free was real for a second. And then his fingers were between my legs, sliding along the most private part of my body.
I was off balance, leaning back against him in my heeled boots, with my dress gathered around my waist.
“Spread your legs,” he commanded against my ear.
All I could think about was the sensation of his strong fingers, now so gentle and smooth, sliding along the rim of my pussy.
I couldn’t have stopped myself if I’d tried. I stepped wider, shamelessly spreading my legs apart, giving this man even greater access to me.
He rewarded me with an onslaught of sensations.
His mouth sliding over the sensitive skin of my neck.
“God, your pussy is so soft.”
His fingers, playing at my entrance, then circling up, wet and light, to tease my clit.
I cried out when he slowly slid one finger inside of me. In and out. In and out. Rimming me and teasing me while continuing to stroke my engorged clit with his thumb.
“Spread them wider,” he growled.
I moaned as I stepped apart further, and then cried with pleasure when he pushed a second finger into me, stretching me in a way that heightened all my sensations.
I felt so wanton, but I couldn’t stop. There was something so feral and openly sexual about how I arched my back against him while my dress was bunched around my waist. I was unsteady on heels, with my legs spread wide open to him while his fingers were buried deep inside of me.
I had never felt more feminine or more free.
“I’ve been hard since the moment I saw you in this little dress. You’re my perfect little fuck doll, aren’t you?”
That pushed me over the edge.
My orgasm washed over me like a tidal wave. I arched back on my tippy toes as a guttural sound came out of me and my hips thrust wildly, riding his fingers like a porn star.
My orgasm went on forever until, finally spent, I collapsed against him, my legs shaking so hard I almost couldn’t stand. I was panting with exertion.
His fingers were still buried inside of me, and I cried out softly when he slowly slid them out of my hypersensitive pussy.
“Jesus Christ, I want to fuck you,” he breathed, as he gently pulled my skirt back down over my trembling legs.
Then he turned me around in his arms.
He looked over my flushed face, searching for something. Almost as if to gauge how I was doing.
I stared at him through the haze of my orgasm.
“If you keep teasing me,” he said with intense frustration, “I will end up fucking you.”
“I’m not teasing you,” I managed to say.
“I’m short on control, Mila. So I advise you to go to your room.”
I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t some child he could send to bed, but the look on his face kept me quiet. There was an intensity to his gaze that both thrilled and terrified me. He was telling me that if I pushed him further, we’d be consummating our marriage tonight.
I wasn’t sure if that’s what I wanted. So, without saying a word, I backed away from him and then turned and ran up the stairs.